Chapter 30 – Laba Festival

By the time Yu Ying fully recovered from this bout of illness, the Laba Festival was almost here.

That she managed to get well in time for Laba was largely thanks to Kangxi’s daily visits, rain or shine, and his tireless determination to feed her medicine himself.

Yu Ying suspected he was doing it on purpose—taking the medicine one spoonful at a time was far more bitter than simply drinking it all in one go, yet Kangxi insisted on feeding her.

What was Kangxi’s intention?

Kangxi was secretly delighted, of course! Watching her scrunch her face into a miserable knot from the bitterness gave him a petty sense of satisfaction.

Let you look down on my Great Qing! Let you secretly curse me in your heart!

Seeing that she was going to recover, what could Yu Ying do? Since she couldn’t die, she’d simply have to live well.

After all, life was just something you got through one day at a time.

Before she knew it, it was the eighth day of the twelfth lunar month.

Early that morning, the fragrance of Laba porridge drifted all through the palace. The palace maids and eunuchs wore unmistakable expressions of joy. This usually lifeless Forbidden City seemed, for once, to have come alive.

Changchun Palace, too, was bustling with activity.

Having regained her health, Yu Ying had returned to her usual carefree state. When she heard it was Laba Festival, she happily went to the main hall to borrow Consort An’s little kitchen so she could cook the porridge herself.

The Laba porridge of this era was made by using various grains as the main base, then adding lotus seeds, dried lily bulbs, almonds, melon seeds, and simmering it all slowly. Finally, rock sugar was stirred in, resulting in a thick, fragrant, and sweet porridge.

When Kangxi arrived, Yu Ying was already holding a bowl and eating.

As soon as he stepped into the courtyard, Kangxi smelled an aroma unlike the Laba porridge prepared in the Imperial Kitchen. He unconsciously quickened his pace.

These days, Kangxi had been coming every single day. He was the Emperor—he had always done as he pleased. In the past, he had often disliked Changchun Palace, but now he came running daily, without caring what anyone else in the harem thought of it.

Thanks to his constant visits, on the very first day he came, he complained that Yu Ying’s quarters were too empty. Not long after, gifts began arriving like flowing water, one after another—everything from antique ornaments, jade and porcelain, famous paintings, to furs and silks, cosmetics, and even rare winter flowers. All of it was sent to Yu Ying’s tiny western side hall.

In just a few days, her once-plain rooms had become a veritable treasure trove.

Yu Ying had to be much more cautious when she moved around, terrified of accidentally bumping into something. After all, all these things were genuine antiques!

When Kangxi stepped inside, he immediately felt the warmth. He removed his cloak and handed it to a servant. Then he saw the little Noble Lady he had been thinking about day and night, sitting on the couch with a bowl of porridge in her hands.

A whole fox pelt was spread over the couch.

Since learning she was so frail, Kangxi had sent over countless furs. The larger pieces were made into cloaks, and the smaller ones sewn into clothing. This particular fox pelt was something he had personally ordered to be laid there, since Yu Ying liked to curl up on the couch.

Yu Ying was drinking her porridge happily. With the brazier burning nearby, she was warm all over, her face no longer pale. When she saw Kangxi come in, she waved to him.

“Your Majesty, you’ve come? Better to arrive at the right time than early—come taste the Laba porridge I made myself.”

After spending these last days together, her relationship with Kangxi had become much more natural, far less constrained than at the start.

To her, Kangxi was no longer just a thin paragraph of text in a history book, but a living person who could smile, get angry, feel joy and sorrow.

Seeing her not even bothering to get up and salute, and waving at him so casually, the servants on both sides had already grown used to it.

Kangxi, naturally, didn’t mind—he had cultivated this informality himself.

Hearing her invitation, Kangxi didn’t hesitate. He strode over and sat on the other side of the couch.

Pei’er, who was waiting at the side, sensibly handed him a bowl of porridge. Kangxi took it.

In fact, he had already eaten Laba porridge before coming. But when he saw Yu Ying’s expectant expression, he couldn’t bring himself to say so. He could only pick up the spoon and feed himself a bite.

To his surprise, it was easier to swallow than he’d imagined, and before he realized it, he’d eaten several more spoonfuls.

When he finally set the bowl down, he saw Yu Ying’s bright, glistening eyes. Knowing exactly what she was waiting to hear, he didn’t stint on praise, opening his golden mouth to compliment her.

Hearing his praise, Yu Ying beamed. She turned to the servants standing in the room and told them all to try the porridge she had made—no need to stay behind to serve.

Qingtao and the others withdrew, leaving only Liang Jiugong standing there awkwardly, casting uneasy glances at Kangxi.

Kangxi raised an eyebrow. “What? Didn’t you hear your Noble Lady’s instructions?”

Only then did Liang Jiugong retreat.

The room was suddenly quiet, leaving just Kangxi and Yu Ying.

Kangxi noticed her fidgeting as if she had something to say, but he didn’t prompt her. The two of them simply sat there in silence.

In the end, Yu Ying couldn’t stand it anymore. She got up and squatted by the brazier, poking at the embers.

Watching her back, her whole posture tangled up in uncertainty, Kangxi found it quite amusing.

“What is it? If you have something to say, just say it. Can’t even open your mouth in front of me?”

Hearing his voice, Yu Ying took a deep breath, as if preparing for a martyr’s sacrifice, and moved to sit in front of him.

“Your Majesty, why are you so good to me?”

Yu Ying had always felt Kangxi’s kindness had come too suddenly.

At first, she thought it was simply because he liked her face. Not to brag, but this face of hers could hold its own among all the beauties in his harem. In the beginning, Kangxi had indeed pulled her into bed every day.

But gradually, Yu Ying realized that Kangxi wasn’t someone who only lusted after appearances. Even when he didn’t touch her, he was still good to her.

But apart from her face, she had nothing—she knew no music, chess, calligraphy, or painting; no poetry or song. She couldn’t think of any reason he would truly care for her.

Could she really have some sort of “irresistible heroine” halo?

Kangxi was caught off guard by her question.

He pulled her into his arms and held her close.

Why was he so good to her?

Good?

He asked himself this and felt he wasn’t truly good. After all, his feelings weren’t pure—he had intentions of using her. Everything he did was merely to quiet his own heart.

That day when he learned she longed only to go home, he had felt a strange emptiness. Alone in Qianqing Palace, he had thought long and hard about how to make her stay willingly.

Yet she seemed to want nothing. The things most concubines cared about—children, family background—she didn’t care about at all.

He had never found anyone so confounding.

If it were anyone else, he would have granted their wish to die and be done with it. But with her, he couldn’t bring himself to beat her, scold her, or even refuse her anything. All he could do was indulge her, spoil her, try to make her days here so comfortable she’d stop dreaming of leaving.

From her thoughts, he knew her parents had loved her dearly, that she had lived without hardship. He couldn’t replace her parents, so all he could do was treat her better still.

Looking down at the little girl resting quietly in his arms, he stroked her hair.

“Is that so? You call this being good? Then in the future, I’ll treat A Ying even better.”

Yu Ying had never been able to get used to being called “Beloved Consort.” She’d pleaded until he finally agreed to stop using it, but he refused to call her by her proper title—instead, he insisted on calling her “A Ying.” She hadn’t been able to change his mind and could only let him.

Yu Ying raised her head to see that he wasn’t joking, then lowered it again.

[Whatever. I’ll just accept it. It’s not like I can refuse anyway.]

Listening to her carefree thoughts, Kangxi couldn’t help but laugh aloud.

Carefree was good.